


Keep Calm and Come Home

by Miri1984



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AND NOT SCIENCEHUSBANDS IN DISGUISE, F/M, YES THIS IS ACTUALLY BRUCE/BETTY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Marvel Throwdown on Tumblr. Bruce asks Betty on a date, has no idea what he wants, but eventually works out how things should be. Involves consent negotiations!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Calm and Come Home

"You should ring her up. Take her on a date or something."

Bruce froze. He was in the middle of some complex calculations, and Tony hadn't spoken to him for about - he glanced at the clock - three hours. They did that, sometimes. Stayed in the same room without saying anything for hours because they were in their own little worlds. He used to do it with Betty, too, back when they'd worked together. There was no need to use words when you knew each other that well. It was one of the reasons he liked working with Tony so much, even if occasionally he would continue a conversation that had started two days ago and it took a little while for Bruce's brain to catch up to what Tony meant. 

Tony, he was coming to realise, just assumed that everyone was thinking the same thing he was. Either thinking the same thing, or thinking about Tony. Bruce supposed it was a form of flattery for Tony to think he could follow the twists and turns of Tony's brain sometimes, but it was also damned annoying.

Betty had got in touch with Tony. Three days before. Bruce had been dithering (at least that's what Steve called it, and it was somehow hilarious to hear him try to encourage Bruce to talk about Betty, even if it was painful as well) and Tony had badgered him about it for a whole day until Bruce had threatened to turn green and throw him through a wall. But it seemed that the subject wasn't as closed as Bruce had thought.

"You know I'm going to keep annoying you until you call her. You know what? I should just get Jarvis to call her now. I'll leave, you can talk privately, I even promise not to record it and play it back..."

Bruce threw up his hands. "Tony please stop."

"Not gonna."

"Okay I'll leave."

"You can't leave you haven't finished calibrating the..."

"It can wait."

"Betty can't."

Bruce frowned at him. Tony stuck out his tongue. 

He wasn't going to win this one.

"That's my man," Tony said, grinning. Bruce rolled his eyes, finished his calibrations, and called Betty.

He left the lab first. It wasn't that he didn't trust Tony. It was just that... he didn't... _trust_ Tony.

He didn’t know if it was the best idea, seeing her, but her voice on the phone was so… kind and beautiful and Betty and the words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could catch them and shove them back down. "Come out to dinner with me?"

Her delighted “yes” nearly made him throw up, his heart ricocheting against his ribs dangerously fast until he took a deep enough breath to pull it back down again. 

At dinner they talked about inconsequential things. She told him about her research. He didn’t. She told him that her father was still an ass. He didn’t mention his father (not that that was any different to normal). She mentioned that there was a new species of carnivorous plant that produced an amino acid that could possibly be the answer to treating certain types of cancer…

“Bruce, you’re not talking. At all.”

He tapped his fingers on the table. Swallowed. Took a sip of water.

“Still not talking,” she was smiling now.

“I…”

She shook her head and sighed. “Okay, if you’re not going to say anything about yourself, tell me about something else.” She spread her hands. “Tell me about Tony Stark. He seemed positively gleeful to tell me where you were when I called.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, well Tony thinks it’s his personal responsibility to make my life happy at the moment. It’s a bit frustrating.”

She grinned. “Oh, I don’t know. Having someone that powerful on your side can’t be a bad thing.”

“Tony’s idea of happiness isn’t exactly the same as mine, Betty.”

She pointed at him with her fork. “I’m sure it shares _some_ similarities.”

Bruce laughed.

“There. Gotcha.”

He froze. “Got me?”

“You laughed. You know you haven’t smiled since we got here, Bruce, and I happen to be fantastic company so I know it’s not _me_ that’s the problem…”

“It’s not you… God Betty it’s not I’m just…”

She cocked her head. “Just what?”

_Terrified._

“Um.”

“Come home with me.”

“To _Virginia?”_

“No you idiot. To my hotel. Come back with me.” She leaned a little closer, resting her chin on one hand. “Have sex with me.”

Bruce’s brain went blank.

Well no.

It didn’t go blank. He _wished_ it had gone blank, because as soon as she gave him that look his brain went to places he'd been trying to avoid all night, if he was brutally honest with himself.  When she'd taken her first sip of water, when she'd touched his hand and kissed his cheek in greeting, when she'd spoken her first _word_ he’d been thinking about the possibility of sex... and what it might _entail,_ in mind-wrenching, gut churning detail, and how it might maybe be even _possible_ now... 

After New York the other guy had been much milder…

He felt his breath hitch and he swallowed.

_Stay calm._

"Have I struck you dumb?" she cocked an eyebrow and grinned at him. "Well - more dumb?"

"No... I...."

She called for the check.

"Betty I..."

She paid it.

"That's not..."

She stood up and took his hand, and walked him out of the restaurant and hailed a cab.

"You should have let me pay."

"Don't be stupid, Bruce, you can't even use your words at the moment you would have got the tip wrong and I hate it when service people give me that look... you know the look..."

"I can give you some money."

"I liked it better when you weren't talking."

He managed to pay for the cab, at least.

He remembered what it was like, after the accident, the build up bubbling under his skin at all times, like teetering on the edge of falling but if falling was actually explosive and all consuming and sickening at once. This wasn’t like that. It wasn’t like tiptoeing through the house at night either, that  sense of dread, that any time a sound would be too loud or a wall would be bumped and _he would wake up.._

 _This_ was like trying to move through an antique store. As the Hulk. 

The hotel room was simple. Nice. Big windows with blinds drawn. A vase of flowers - he suspected she’d put them there and wondered, with a stab of jealousy, if someone had given them to her…

“Bruce. Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m making _you_ nervous? Well. That’s nice.”

“You haven’t relaxed since we got here. What is it? Do you want to go…?”

“No! No. Nooo. NO. I don’t want to, Betty I just… don’t know…”

There was a smile around her lips. The hint of a smile. “You know I saw you on TV. They showed you fighting those aliens.”

“You mean you saw _him.”_

“I saw _you.”_

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Well. He helped.”

She cocked her head on one side. “I wouldn’t have known where to find you if I hadn’t seen it. Tony was very interested in why I wanted to find you in particular. I guess he never heard about us after…”

“Well, your father tried very hard to keep your name away from mine, Betty…”

"And of course you never talk about me to your friends." 

His shoulders slumped. She wasn't accusing him of anything but he knew she was disappointed. "I couldn't. I didn't..."

"You're an idiot sometimes, Bruce."

_All the time._

She stood up reached out - touched his hand. Just that simple touch made his heart jump. _Calm. Stay calm._ He hadn’t noticed that he’d clenched them both together in front of him, white knuckled.

"You should know by now that I'll always find you, Bruce."

He was staring at her hands. _Stay calm._ She smelled very nice. She always smelled good. Underneath whatever chemicals or perfume or food there was an essential _Betty-ness_ that felt like _home._

He didn’t have anything else even closely resembling one of those.

“Betty. We shouldn’t.”

“Are you going to tell me you can’t afford to get your heart rate up again, Bruce, because it looked pretty much like you had your little problem under control in New York.”

“I can’t…”

“Bruce. Look at me.”

He looked.

She gave him the smile again and put her hand on his chest. _Stay. Calm._ “We can go slow, Bruce. As slow as you like.”

“I…” Her hand started to move downwards, slowly but relentlessly. _Stay calm._

“You can tell me to stop whenever you want.” It reached his belt buckle. _Robert Bruce Banner you better stay calm._

“Betty…”

“We used to be good at this, Bruce. Don’t you remember?” She started working on the buckle, and Bruce pulled in a deep, shuddering, breath. He put one hand over hers. 

“I would die if I hurt you again Betty.”

“You never hurt me Bruce.”

“He _did…”_

“Accident. Enclosed space. You couldn’t help it.”

Outside, thunder rolled. He hadn’t even noticed it was getting darker. He couldn’t see the colour of her eyes any more, and had a sudden urge to cup her face in his hands and stare into them, learn the colour again, map every spot and every fleck of blue.

He wanted to find out what she was thinking.

She had his belt undone.

_Oh, so that’s what she’s thinking._

“Betty…”

“Shh, Bruce.”

The belt was off. 

_Stay calm._

He meant to push her back, but somehow his hands were on her shoulders and he was moving forward, tipping his head (not much, she was a little taller than him, even without heels) and brushing his mouth over hers and if she _smelled_ like home, kissing her was like having a mansion and a pool and a butler and…

He pulled back, swallowing. “I…” she chased his lips with hers and he couldn’t be rude but he touched her cheek and turned his face. “Betty I really…”

She took his chin in two fingers. 

She had strong fingers. “Bruce?”

“Yes Betty?”

 “Shut up,” she pulled his head back down and started backing towards the bed, still kissing him, her hands moving on his shirt now, rucking it up.

Her nails were shorter than he remembered, but they gently scraped up his belly and he gasped. Her other hand was working on the buttons of his shirt, so much more deft than he ever was, hairy and clumsy and blunt…

She wound one finger in the short hair on his chest, pulling gently, her mouth moving to his jaw. His eyes were shut, he didn’t remember closing them, his shirt was off, somehow, and her hands were everywhere, on his back, his neck, his face and she was kissing him and…

_His heart thumped twice, hard, against his chest._

“Stop!” he took her hands, breathing hard. She stopped. Of _course_ she did, she'd said she would...but there was hurt in her eyes and he _hated_ himself. He bent down and tried to kiss the hurt away, softly, gently, slowly. “It’s all right,” he said. “It’s going to be all right… just…”

“Too fast?” she murmured against his neck.

“A little bit,” he said, smiling.

She laughed, a breathless huff of air against him. “I’m sorry. Just… I guess I’m a little impatient.”

He brushed hair back from her neck, letting his fingers linger on her pulse, feeling it flutter. 

“God, me too,” he said. “But… if we’re going to do this…”

“…Bruce we are _so_ going to do this…”

He laughed again. “If we’re going to do this I want to get it right.”

She put both her palms flat on his chest and smiled back at him. “It’s always right with you, Bruce.”

It was suddenly too hard to breathe. He blinked rapidly, then bent forward and kissed her. The backs of her legs hit the bed and she sank down, gracefully, pulling him with her and he propped himself on his arms, looking down at her. 

Her eyes were wide and trusting and she reached up and carded her hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face and letting one hand linger on his cheek. “I missed you. So much.”

He should say something, but he couldn’t. He was calm… totally calm now, stupid to think that he would have been anything but, here, in her arms, but there was nothing to say back to her that wouldn’t be… too much. Not enough.

Wait.

There was.

“I love you, Betty.”

Her smile was brighter than sunlight. “Come here.”

He undressed her slowly. Kissed every part of her body. Reacquainted himself with dips and curves, the feel of her hip under his hand, the back of her knee, the nape of her neck. He cupped her breasts, rubbed his cheek against them until she laughed and pushed him away _“Shave, Bruce!” “I did! This morning!”_ She fell silent when he settled between her legs, looking up at her, naked, his hands under her thighs. Her breath was coming in short gasps as he hooked one leg over his shoulder and dipped his mouth to her, tasting, drinking her in while she moaned against him.

God he’d missed this. He’d been so long alone and there was only so much the others could do for him (despite Tony’s insistence otherwise) and it had never felt wrong, or dangerous to touch Betty. Perhaps it was because he could remember what it felt like to touch her before the experiment. Or perhaps… his brain shied away from the thought… perhaps because the other guy cared about her as much as he did.

Her hips lifted towards him, fingers tangling in his hair as she cried out and he smiled against her. He was still calm. The anger that had felt a part of him for years was so far away that he didn’t think he could use it if he tried.

She pulled him up, hands on his shoulders, kissing him hungrily, trying to drink him in the way he had just drunk her. “You were always good at that, Bruce.”

He didn’t think he’d been good at it with anyone but her.

She put one hand on his chest. “Are you all right?”

“Better than I’ve ever been.”

_“Good.”_

She reached down, encircling him with her hand, pulling upwards with a light, feathery touch that had the potential to drive him mad. _Stay calm._ His eyes shut, he couldn't have kept them open if he tried, and his breath came faster, but...

...there was no anger.

He slid inside her and then there was just... Betty. She gasped under him, matched his pace. He forced himself to breathe deep and even, to draw it out as long as it could go, because he didn't want it to stop. It had been too long. So, so long.

"Kiss me."

He kissed her.

He wanted to keep kissing her forever.

At the end, she pulled him close, held him as he shook, kissed his eyelids and his mouth and tangled her hands in his hair.

"I told you we were good at this."

He laughed. "Of course we are."

Outside the rain started to fall, but in here, he was safe and warm, and home.


End file.
